


Mrs.

by Infiniteleft



Category: Love Live! School Idol Festival (Video Game), Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Gen, I honestly don't know how to tag this but whatever this is it's not exactly pleasant, Strained Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infiniteleft/pseuds/Infiniteleft
Summary: Mrs. Kurosawa watches her daughter grow up. Or does she?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Idol Fanfic Heaven's Wake Up Challenger Event 2021





	Mrs.

The hallway was dark as she walked through, stopping to look at the photos hung on the wall. Ancient pictures were there, detailing her husband's family in all its humble glory. Strange to be a part of that now. She'd known it would come someday, but the reality of marriage was something that still made her shiver in excitement of the romantic future to come.

* * *

She'd known it would be difficult, but motherhood was a different horse to ride than marriage. The sleepless nights after her daughter was born were expected. However, nobody had prepared her for how frustrated she would be. They told her she would be exhausted. They’d never mentioned that she would be angry.

It was a frightening thought, when she remembered her own mother. She looked down at the squalling child in her arms, then back at the confused face of her husband. Wordlessly, he held his arms out. That hurt, too, to see her baby so easily comforted by him -- by anyone other than her.

* * *

By the time she had a second daughter, she had figured some things out. Children were a menace, and they didn't care about how other people felt. Fair enough. They were young, incapable of appreciating the effort spent on them.

That said, she wouldn't question the gift of her elder child's patience when she came home with their youngest. She watched her husband carefully set her down, and turquoise eyes sparkled as their kid looked over her baby sister.

She would, however, question her own wisdom when they both started crying in distress.

* * *

Her husband was late. Improper, but she'd long since given up on having him home at a decent hour. He might overwork himself, but she knew he only wanted to be a good role model for his daughter. So young, and already their heiress was taking after him.

She sighed, turning off the television. The girls should've been in bed by now, but it was on nights like these that the two of them stayed up, waiting for their father to come home. Sometimes she managed to bribe them into doing without, but other times, she remembered being a child herself. She remembered missing her father.

On those days, she brought the two of them into her bedroom, and settled into the futon with one on each side. She told them stories -- greatly exaggerated, of course -- about her childhood adventures, of meeting fantastical creatures and monsters she defeated without so much as a sword.

Her elder daughter said she didn’t believe her, but she knew the stories were treasured. Especially since she often mentioned them in rebuttal to something else she claimed.

It never took long to get them to sleep after that. Sometimes, she was tired enough to join them. Other times, she wasn't, and stayed awake for hours, wishing they could have this forever.

* * *

Idols. She'd heard about them, of course -- who didn't know what an idol was in this day and age?

What she hadn't expected was her oldest's sudden interest in it, how it exploded overnight. She didn't know how it happened, but she eventually managed to get one of them to tell her that they'd formed a school idol group.

It was a foolish notion, but she encouraged them anyway. She remembered being their age, and frankly, allowing them this freedom now was better for them in the long run. It was inevitable that they'd all take over their parent's businesses, for who else would? She only wished it didn't come at the expense of the kids' childhood.

* * *

She found the dirty, wrinkled uniform under the couch while vacuuming. Hesitantly, she flicked it off, focusing on the outfit her daughter had been so proud to wear just two days ago. She turned it over in her hands, wondering if this was why her daughter had been so angry as of late.

What happened? She knew they hadn't performed, but getting a straight answer as to why was nearly impossible. Once she had asked, and only once. Her daughter's scowl and retreat kept her from trying again. The girl was too much like her father; being upset was never allowed -- failure was never allowed. She remembered the mantra her husband repeated.

In that moment, she cursed the Kurosawa name.

* * *

It was a relief to see the other girls around again -- after the disaster of Tokyo, her kids hadn't been the same. All her attempts to get through to them were met with deflection and fear. So seeing a bright, lovely group with a couple of new faces in it was a welcome change.

Her husband had been indifferent towards the whole idol thing, but at least he was approving of them branching out. As callous as he could be, she knew he worried about them too.

* * *

Or maybe he didn't. She'd told him this was going to happen someday, if he didn't say anything sooner, and did he listen? He did not. So of course the problem got worse. Worse and worse. And now she's gotten a phonecall from the school telling her her eldest daughter collapsed in the middle of gym class.

By the time she got there, her baby was already awake and embarrassed. One of her friends were still there -- goodness, who was she again? She was a newer face -- and yelling about how she needed to take care of herself more.

Stunned, she stood just in the doorframe, peering inside. How was it that this random schoolgirl was doing more to teach her child than her husband? Her fingers tightened against the wood. This needed to change, but that would have to wait for later. For now, she entered the room to thank what's-her-name.

It hit her when she was halfway to the car that perhaps she should've known who that was.

* * *

As strong as her daughters were, they couldn't move mountains. She gently rocked her eldest, who finally cried in her arms again, and she told her how proud she was to have such a driven child. She whispered the praises she wished she knew how to say before, when she needed to hear them.

She laid in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling. Wasn't it just a few weeks ago that she'd brought her baby girl home? And now she had graduated. The last class of Uranohoshi... Now the girl was off to college. Perhaps to be a business major, as expected of her -- it would certainly be useful, given that she would inherit the fishery just like her father before her had done.

And yet… part of her wished she would do anything but. Her baby was bright, strong, able to do whatever she wished -- except, of course, anything that defied her parents.

* * *

Little did she know, the rebellion eventually came.

It was subtle, and she hadn't had any clue it was coming. Frankly, she hadn't noticed it had happened until it was too late. One day, her daughter had come home for a visit. They'd had a pleasant cup of tea. Sitting on the porch, they'd talked about life, little gossip that meant everything and yet, were altogether nothing. One comment earned her pursed lips from the girl, but she’d chalked it up to polite distaste of the subject at hand.

Eventually, it was time for her daughter to leave.

With a smile, she opened her arms for a hug. There had been something odd in the child's eyes when she stepped in, and the embrace seemed tighter, longer. She'd chalked it up to stress, and her daughter missing home.

"I love you, Dia."

Her daughter was quiet for a moment. The hug got tighter. "I love you too, Mom."

* * *

She didn't hear from either one of her kids for years. It took her forever to understand why.

The truth lied in the moments she barely remembered, in the words she'd never said, in the ones she _did._ It took a frustrated outburst from her children’s friend -- the same one who’d yelled at Dia all those years ago -- to finally start thinking about it. Their friend’s name was Chika. She should’ve remembered that. Not for the notable inn her parents ran, but for the force she placed on her children's lives. Damn that girl for making her the enemy.

But damn her own self further, for turning a blind eye to Dia and Ruby, who'd been in front of her the whole time. Damn her for looking away when the cracks showed, and damn her for placing the blame everywhere but herself.

**Author's Note:**

> ....so i might have been thinking about inspiration when i wrote this. while not a ventfic, this miiight've been inspired by me thinking about dia's relationship with her parents in that one.


End file.
